The Lay of Kemoc and the Night Roses
by Bardicsidhe
Summary: The early genealogy of Calydor...wrapped in an attractive package. Sung at Moondance by a new Laysinger in the newly reclaimed Hallow Hills.
1. The Beginning

The Lay of Kemoc and the Night Roses  
  
Sung by Scylla  
  
"Hail! I'll sing thee a tale of the brave Kemoc, a warrior newly-made some hundred years past, and how he forsook Vale and Ring for one who first claimed his heart...and in so doing influenced the lives of many to come.  
  
"Kemoc had only just returned from initiation. A fine warrior-so said all who knew the night-blue stallion. The pride of the herd-so said Prince Kern and King Arden as they studied the white-maned half-grown. Bested only by the prince in sparring, well-spoken with wisdom and honesty, and tempered with Lore and Law, Kemoc represented everything a half-grown should.  
  
"As could be expected, Kemoc drew a healthy group of admirers. Each summer he held back from the mating dance, as even the most flirtatious, beautiful, and devoted fillies gained nary a glance from him. The herd began to whisper that perhaps Kemoc would never mate. Some even accused him of holding too high an opinion of himself to ever accept a 'mere imperfect mortal.'  
  
"Kemoc only shook his head sadly at such talk. He still remained unpaired, even as his tenth summer came and declared him full-grown. During the unmated band's stay by the Sea, a frustrated mare-constantly thrown off with a wall of courteous refusals-dubbed him 'Shadow Lover.' The name stuck, and poor Kemoc, tired of the rumors and the disgrace, escaped into the trees that ran along the cliffs overlooking the Summer Sea. 


	2. The Dream

"Believing he would be safe, Kemoc lay among their cool shadows and vented his sorrows to the wind. How could the others know what he felt? The one who called him 'Shadow Lover' was a lovely mare, but not...not She. Not the one he had seen; had dreamed of upon the night of his initiation.   
  
"In his dream, a pale pink mare-dappled white-stepped timidly from among a stand of sweet-scented Night Rose bushes and called to him. His heart ached sorely at the remembrance of her beautiful eyes meeting his...of the red kite's feathers in her mane. Words of welcome flooded into his mouth, and were stilled as a dawn-colored warrior mare came to stand at his shoulder. The dappled mare's face fell, and she turned away. Angrily, Kemoc faced the warrior by his side, who merely eyed him wisely. Heartsick, Kemoc plunged into the wood after the vanished one, but recovered only a red feather from her hair. Realization struck him as he realized she was a Renegade, and forbidden by the Vale....yet not hornless or single-toed. Not a monster at all.  
  
"Kemoc sighed at the memory of the dream; allowed long-unshed tears to fall. He knew that the dappled mare would find no home in the Vale, and yet she remained in his soul and memory, segregating him from those who might one day become his mate. Four years past, Kemoc set his heart and came to a decision...until that one came to his side, he would pledge no vow of Mating. 


	3. The Meeting

"The others among the sojourn to the sea found him and coaxed him back to the games on the sandbar below. He smiled then as someone called him 'Shadow Lover,' for the name rang true. The pale rose and white-dappled one was always a shadow upon his happiness, and still he loved her with his whole being.  
  
"Summer ended and Kemoc returned to the Vale unpaired once more, to the herd's ringing disappointment. They chided him now. As Winter came, even Prince Arden called him 'Shadow Lover.' Kemoc found himself spending increasing amounts of time near the Pan Woods, away from the teasing voices. When Spring finally broke Winter's grip, he asked permission of the Prince to forego the next mating sojourn at the Summer Sea, and was flatly denied. Kemoc's band of admirers became annoyed when news of his request reached them, and quickly transferred their attentions elsewhere. Now he spent most of his time alone, bothered only by his own treacherous thoughts.  
  
"The pale rose mare haunted him, danced through his dreams and begged him to join her. Again and again he tried, but the dawn-colored warrior mare always thwarted his escape and pressed him away from the dappled one. He slept little now, afraid of what his slumber might next bring him.   
  
"Spring nearly over, the unicorns prepared for the Ringdance to celebrate the mating sojourn once again. Kemoc entered the dance unwillingly, footing the steps mute and staid; no shouts of merrymaking upon his tongue. When it was done, he curled up in the new grass with the others and lay still, uninterested in the singer. Some of the fillies giggled shyly at him, but he made no response-already lost in sorrowing dreams.  
  
"Those same fillies were later reminded of the 'Shadow Lover's' reputation, and paid him no mind on the morrow as they loped toward the Summer Sea. Kemoc kept to the outside of the band. As the oldest member he was supposed to lead...but he had no one to impress, unlike the new participants and those intent on impressing a certain beautiful someone. He wisely left it to them.  
  
"His head shot up from its study of the ground at a kite's sudden shrill. The others stopped, bewildered by the sound. No bird could be seen, but as Kemoc's widening eyes traced its path, a single red feather floated to earth. He snatched it up in his teeth, and continued to the Sea with his band.  
  
"Upon reaching the shore, Kemoc immediately extracted himself from the festivities and returned to his old haunts upon the cliffs. There he stayed, nibbling and tugging at the feather until it stayed put in his mane near the withers.  
  
"Evening came, and with it the sweet scent of Night Roses. Kemoc followed the scent to a small bush covered with the misty-colored blooms. He thrust his head in among the thornless stems and breathed deeply, recalling once again the dream...and her. Sadness broke over him once again, and desperation at the thought of her. I wear thy feather, O gentle one. Do not run from me again. I...I am a Renegade too, in my way.  
  
"Quiet laughter broke the spell of the Night Roses. Kemoc sighed and untangled his horn from the snarled twigs, preparing to explain himself to whoever had seen him.   
  
" 'Hail, companion. I have just been enjoying the scent of the Night Roses. They do not grow-'  
" 'Aye,' a sweet voice interrupted, 'they do not bloom upon the Plain. 'Tis too harsh a clime for them. I come here at Summer as well, if only to sniff the roses and gaze upon the dancing Southlanders.' 


	4. Halla

"Kemoc's head whipped around. His words trailed off as a lance of the dying sunlight betrayed her. White-dappled. Pale rose. Dear Alma....  
  
"The scent of Night Roses had grown more intense. She approached him, eyes grown luminous and large. 'What stays thee from speaking? Art thou like me...a lover of the roses and a watcher of the Dance?'  
  
" 'I...' Kemoc could manage no more than that. The mare's eyes flashed with recognition. 'Thou art a moondancer as well. I remember seeing thee at a distance when thou went with thy companions at Pilgrimage to the bitter pool. Thou hast gone that way many times since, always a companion to the nervous young ones.' Her eyes betrayed her for a moment, and Kemoc saw the depths of sorrow there...and the longing. He knew that she had watched him each time he traversed the old path, from his initiation to the latest one of a year past. The white-dappled mare continued. 'The Free People of the Plain know how the Southlanders feel about us. I simply saw the feather in thy mane and thought thee a curious Plainsdweller like myself. My apologies...I trouble thee no more.'  
  
"She walked past him and vanished into the forest. A recollection of his duties and responsibilities of a warrior ghosted up beside him. He made to turn back, and met the dawn-colored warrior mare, once again at his side. She looked at him quizzically.  
  
" 'Why dost thou never follow her? Always standing here, letting my presence weight thee like lead.'  
  
" 'She is a Renegade-' Kemoc began. The other cut him off. 'Not so! She was born upon the Plain. She did not flee from my Ring. I never intended it to become so binding, as to hold back a sensible warrior from his own heart.'  
  
" 'Thy Ring? By...Halla...' Kemoc gasped. The fiery mare nodded. 'Indeed. And it is obvious thou hast no need of its Law. Thy descendants will be welcome when the Hills are safe again, but it has evidenced me that perhaps thy descendants will come to call the Plains their home. Go. Da'Quiris has more need of thee than my Ring.'  
  
"Kemoc plunged past her into the shadows of the forest, heartbrokenly calling the dappled mare's truename as given to him by the ancient princess Halla.'  
  
"He did not find her for many days, but when finally Kemoc met his love once more upon the Plain, a more beautiful reunion has never been recorded. Their descendants were many and still can be traced in the blood of those ranging Alma's Back. A stallion bearing the coat of his great-great-great grandsire and the dapples of his great-great-great granddam traveled the Plains during the time of Aljan Moonbrow, earning himself a name to match his coat and wonted as a dreamer and singer...but that is another tale, and this tale is done." 


End file.
